Do Not Look
by VictorianLegend07
Summary: Daryl does not look. It's not that he wants not to see or know the people around him but there is Merle. And Merle means that he'd rather not go through the trouble. Even if the little chinaman peaks his curiosity with his twinkling chinky eyes. (For now:MILD SLASH)


Daryl Dixon does not look. Ever since the dead began to walk again and he and his brother Merle had decided to team up with a group of survivors in some quarry for convenience, he had kept to himself, doing what he was tasked, contributing what he has to assure him and his brother the benefits of the group and nothing more. He doesn't really know the group aside from their face value and the brief, necessary interaction he has to make with them, and they, in turn, know almost nothing about him. It's not that he wants not to see or know them or that he is forced to keep his eyes and mind to himself but he preferred not to look anyway.

He had always been a little introverted, spending his time alone in the woods most of his days since he had been a child, their house just a walking distance to one. The sereneness of the atmosphere, the soft press of soil beneath light footsteps, the gentle greens of the forest canvas, the silent whistling of the wind, ruffling his hair, just as lovingly as a mother, on a sunny day, the canopy above protecting him from the harsh rays proved more comforting to him than the harsh and noisy goings on of the city. He was awkward with people as a result and so avoided much confrontation. However, that didn't mean that he was not ever curious about them.

He still remembers Julia, a redheaded white kid that had been his first love at ten years old. He had been on an errand to buy some gasoline from the only gas station in their small town when, as he arrived at the cashier, the little girl with her dimpled cheek and bright brown eyes turned to him as her mother paid their bill in front of him. She had said a cheerful hi and told him that they were new and they lived just down the curb. Her mother had immediately tugged her hand, telling her to not share such information so easily with strangers. But Daryl remembered what she said, along with her smile and her eyes that looked _at him_, so happy and carefree. He wondered what made her the way she was, bright like the sun during spring. Pure and warm just like what he had felt as he watched the pair of mother-daughter go, the latter with her ponytailed hair swishing behind her when for the first time he experienced a sudden hotness on his face that he would later associate with attraction.

He came to visit Julia three days after a long deliberation and pumping up of courage. He had planned every word that he would say once he finally met her again; that he would say hi and introduce himself. Then, he'd ask for her name and ask if they could be friends. He even practiced smiling in the mirror, making sure that his face did not crumple too much in excitement and so that he'd look just like the boys in his Pa's motorcycle magazines that had infatuated girls with their manly arms. He wore his best sleeveless shirt and his least worn jeans and had made his way to the concrete floored streets instead of his usual soft soiled forest floors. Everything was as perfect as he could make it.

What he hadn't counted on was Merle. And then, everything turned into a perfect _disaster_. He had knocked upon the orange door and waited with his hands clenched and sweaty in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with nerves. When the door had opened with a soft creak, his heart had made a great leap on his chest and he almost couldn't speak when the woman, Julia's mother, answered him. But he tried hard. He swallowed and asked for Julia, explaining that he was that boy they met the other day at the gasoline station. Her mother looked a bit surprised but upon staring at his face a minute, she smiled, a strange twinkle in his eyes appearing as she told him to wait as she called for her daughter. _Julia!_ , she had shouted. And that was how she knew her name. Daryl recalled feeling the hot flush on his face once more.

He was finally going to see her again!

He bit his lower lip in anticipation and nervousness. He felt as if all the insects in the forest had made its way into his stomach-inside him as he felt a fluttering in his gut and a pleasant crawl on his skin. He closed his eyes. But somehow, during the few seconds that passed with his world darkening and him opening his eyes again, everything that was supposed to happen turned a 180 degree. Merle was staring at him from his side, the ten year difference between them apparent in his towering form hovering above him. His brother's face was twisted in a disgusting smirk and when he finally opened his mouth, it reeked badly of alcohol.

"Noticed you actin' weird lil' brother. I thought you were up to somethin' and what do you know! You have a girl!" he was slurring, his words spoken flowing upon each other like puke mixing with toilet water, and he swayed even while he was just standing. Daryl paled and shook a little. All he could do was nod.

Clammy fingers pinched his cheeks hard and he flinched, a soft whimper escaping his lips. "Nervous, lil' brother? Why don'cha lemme show you how it's done. "

His eyes widened and he started to reach for Merle's wrist to pull him back as he made his way in front of him but the door opened, the small Julia letting herself out donned with the same bright smile on her face as that first time he saw her. However, when what faced him was the torso of a big man instead of the small boy she was expecting, her lips immediately downturned in to a frown, and, when she looked up, her whole body immediately tensed. "Um." She muttered in her soft, sweet voice.

Merle bent over and stared hard at Julia's face, bracing himself on the doorframe with his right arm, effectively crowding her. "Hey there pretty. How'd ya like to come with me? I swear ya'll feel good." Her ensuing scream and the loud bang of the door as she ran inside was forever embedded in Daryl's memory, the scared, high pitched voice piercing through him and numbing his whole body every time he remembered.

He ran.

Daryl never looked when Merle was around. He preferred not to. And given the circumstances that it was the apocalypse and he still loved his brother enough to stick with him and the fact that no matter how unstable Merle was, he was the only instability that he was familiar with and thus ready to deal with, he was left in a world that consisted only of Merle, and himself. It was how he chose to survive in the new world.

Not that he could deny that sometimes, it has crossed his mind how some things would be better if he had been the only surviving member of his family left.

It was at times when he wakes up and finds fresh clothes in front of their tent or when he comes back after long hours of hunting and someone offers him water that he wanted to get involved, that he could feel his curiosity rise and the urge to get to know the people of the group to create real relationships come.

He felt it particularly with the peculiar chinaman that always has a baseball cap on. He vaguely remembers his name to be Glenn from when he sometimes heard the others call for him. He was nothing spectacular physically like many of the men in the group who were burly with muscles or made up for the lack of it with sheer body mass. But even so, he got shit done. The kid has a good brain, runs fast, and has good reflexes which made him perfect for supply runs. He has yet to actually see him in full action since Glenn preferred and insisted that he go alone to the runs claiming that he would be able to move faster and more efficiently with only himself to think about. There still wasn't any walker wandering the quarry as of the moment, thankfully, for him to witness the kid fight. But he had heard enough from him during group discussions and had seen enough of him that one time when a stray fox had sent the kid running and attacking in the next second, catching said animal for its meat to know to respect him. It wasn't just that though. Glenn was also one of the few among the survivors in the quarry that came alone. People usually arrived with their family or at least some of them; hell even he had a brother when arrived. Yet, despite having practically no one he could fully trust or anyone he truly cares for, the kid didn't have the gloomy, choking atmosphere people of the same fate as him carry with them. Jim for one, a mechanic he had held a few conversations with about engine and general car maintenance looked gray and pale, voice silent and troubled with eyes that always go distant as if he was living in a different reality, soaked up with his memories of the past where he still had the people he loved. Glenn, instead, had big hopeful eyes that always managed to lighten up with a smile, like he could see every silver lining no matter the situation, even when everyone else have already lined up for the guillotine in a general lack of hope for the world. He also befriended everyone no matter if it was Daryl-dickhead-Dixon or his brother. It didn't matter that he failed when he and Merle refused his hand of friendship-him with a cold shoulder and a snort, Merle with a couple of racial slurs and spit on the ground. What mattered was that he _tried_. He gave them a chance despite the obvious 'bastards' stamped in their red necks and even acted civil towards them now, despite everything.

He sometimes reminded him of Julia when the girl had looked at him, probably registering his messy appearance with ruffled hair, dirt streaked face and ragged clothes that he had always worn. And because of this, he couldn't help but feel his heart lift a tiny bit in his presence, a blanched imitation of his boyhood fluttering but miraculous in itself for the rarity of its occurrence in his adult life. And maybe he was also hearing a quiet voice in his head that he might just want to stand before the kid's tent just as he had done before Julia's door if only to fulfill the same interest for the twinkling of Glenn's eyes as he had with Julia's smile. But then…

"Daryl! You fuckin' there or do I have to shoot ya in the head?" Merle asks, breaking entry upon his thoughts and bringing him back to the reality of silence and avoidance and of simple tasks like gutting squirrels as he was in the middle of doing. He lifts his arms from where they had rested too long on his thighs and resumes his work.

"Shut yer mouth and leave me alone." He mutters.

Merle laughs. But Daryl was almost serious.

**A/N: This could stand on its own but this might yet become a chaptered fic. I am still unsure so I won't be putting the 'complete' status. Nonetheless, I hope you liked what you read. **


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